Showing posts with label #publishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #publishing. Show all posts

Sunday, December 31, 2023

Out With the Old; In With the New



📷credit: Mohamed_hassan 


Out With the Old; In With the New


Time is a funny, fickle thing. In some moments, I feel silly and young and alive, like I’m 17, and in other moments, I’m tired, like I’ve lived 117 years and a thousand lifetimes. Somehow, in a way I don’t really understand, this year flashed in the blink of an eye. As 2023 ends, I like to reflect on how I spent the year. 


What have I been doing? My knee-jerk response is to shrug and say, “I don’t know. Nothing.” But in truth, I’ve been busy working, teaching, reading, resting, letting go of all that no longer serves, and easing into all that is meant for me. Some of it’s heavy stuff. 


But I’ve also been writing. In fact, I spent a good chunk of the year tuning out the world and writing. I am beyond grateful for that opportunity because the grown-up outside world can come knocking, like a wise guy barging in to break your legs. So, I am humbled and thankful for that time.


At the beginning of the year, I tried hard to have an online presence. However, convincing strangers I'm a writer takes a lot of work. It worked for a while (welcome to the odd time in the 21st century, where we talk more than we do). One day, I had nothing left to post on my blog, and I’d spent too much time focusing on social media. It was the literal antithesis of where I wanted to be. 


I needed a kick in the pants, so I got out of my comfort zone and went to a writers' conference. Not only were there some great workshops, but I also got feedback from industry professionals and pitched to an agent who asked to see the first 50 pages of my novel! It was an INVALUABLE experience. 


After some polish and shine, I sent the pages to the agent and waited, checking my email every ten minutes while simultaneously planning the agent’s delighted response. (Ever see A Christmas Story where Ralphie envisions his teacher’s joy at reading his essay? It was a bit like that.) She was going to love it. I was on Cloud Nine. This was it; my time had come. 


But I also had a genuine problem. I had embellished (it’s what writers do) the completion level of the novel. I was only about halfway through and still needed a middle, a climax, and an ending (roughly 30,000 words). I DID have an outline and an idea (or two). So I wrote. Tuned out the world, and spun a tale.


I put all my energy into finishing that novel. Short stories and blogs sat incomplete and unfinished. The online posts stopped. My reading slowed, and I almost forgot about my word game. The only thing in my crosshairs was telling that story. 


One day in mid-June, I finished. It wasn’t shiny and polished, but I’d told the tale. With nothing but radio silence from the agent, I let the first book simmer and immediately got to work on the second one. I was on a roll.


Finally, a response from the agent came. I was giddy until I opened the email. 


The agent passed on the story. To her credit, she was kind and even offered specific areas of improvement. And she was right, but now what? My dream of a smooth path to publication (after ten years) was just gone. Poof. Snap of the fingers. In one email. Gone. 


It took a hot second to allow the disappointment to fade, but then things became clearer: 

1. I’d made writing a priority, and I had two new novels and a third in rough outline form. All of it had been to show myself I could do it. 

2. It was time to stop fucking around. Stumbling around aimlessly, trying to be a writer was over.  I didn’t need any more ways to NOT write a bestseller. I needed to learn—the tricks of the trade, the ins and outs. 


So, after jumping through several flaming hoops and almost getting lost in paperwork, I’ve been accepted into a Master of Fine Arts in Writing program


Brand new story beginning January 2024. Is it going to lead me to a life of best-selling novels (and that private island I’m always going on about)? Probably not, but as I learn from local industry professionals, I’m open to discovering my niche to see where it leads. Hopefully, to a revenue-generating career where I can entertain people with stories and positively impact the lives of readers of all ages. Perhaps I wind up back in a classroom or write a Kids' Yoga book (better yet, the next bestseller turned Netflix series). Maybe self-publishing, editing, or freelance writing will fit my lifestyle better. Time will tell. 


For now, I’m embracing the present, celebrating the lessons of 2023, and having faith in the ebb and flow of the journey.


Endless possibilities loom on the horizon, each filled with challenges and lessons, all filled with learning and laughter (to keep me balanced). 


Wishing you a wonderful New Year. May 2024 bring you peace, joy, and blessings. 💜



Until next time… 

Be creative. Find your wild side. Stay sane(ish). 

Aspen Hite ✌️



Sunday, March 5, 2023

A Writing Musing: Respect the Process

 A glimpse behind my creative curtain...


Respect the Process


The fiction writing has been going well, but it really is a process.


Brainstorming: The creation part, which is ALWAYS fun, is the beginning. This stage is messy and chaotic as I’m jotting loads of ideas and notes anywhere and everywhere (post-its, notebooks, napkins, receipts). I have multiple documents open on my computer (all very random). And I am actively talking to myself, playing out the actions and motives of the characters. 


Drafting: I make it all up as I tell myself the story. I have to understand what’s happening. What’s the first problem? What’s the goal of the character(s)? How will I complicate it for them? And what can I do to surprise the reader? This part is my favorite part. Of course, I usually come up with my best-complicated surprises in the shower or while I’m driving, and when I get to some sort of way to record my thoughts, they have all flittered away. Sometimes I chase them. Sometimes I wait for them to return…the good ones always do. 


This stage can be quick or long and drawn out (like now). It usually also involves various forms of rewriting and junk piling. At this point, I know the overview of the story, but scenes are still coming in scattered pieces, like a puzzle. I’m turning the pieces over, finding the edges, and putting similar ideas (pieces) together.  I can picture the final result, but seeing it complete before me is a long way away. 


Revising/Rewriting: The puzzle comes together. Once I finish the first draft, I’ll reread (over and over) to fine-tune it and polish it into a creatively stimulating story using nothing more than words (the ultimate goal). This part can be enjoyable (like when I come up with something good) or torture (like when I hit a wall or write myself into a corner). 


Editing: This is my least favorite part (perfecting the puzzle, pressing the pieces together, adding a gloss or glue), but it’s essential.  It always entails reading aloud, Grammarly, laughter, and tears. Sometimes, I seek out an extra set of eyes. However, if my work is bound for publication, I will hire a professional editor to critique and correct my writing. Nothing more embarrassing than a typo on the title page.   


Publishing: The final stage: sharing the best version with the public.


Where am I now? In the drafting stage, with two feisty and hard-to-control heroines: Em De Mone and Elle Kingsmith. These ladies and their crew of characters have been chattering and rattling around in my head most recently. These ladies are particularly interesting because their stories span many millennia and interconnect on multiple levels. But they are also very much the stars of their own stories. The experiences of their 20s (current WIPs) are not only happening in my head now, but their actions will vastly impact destiny. So technically, I’m creating the surprises and twists of future stories. 


To sharpen my storytelling skills, I’ve also been dabbling in nonfiction, writing short stories about teaching, or dogs, or life, or writing. 


I’m enjoying learning to respect the process as I create my writing journey. 


What’s next? A mixture of fiction and nonfiction musings. And hopefully, some exciting book news soon. 

Thirteen Years

  📷 credit: Tumisu Thirteen Years  I had to be in 8th grade, sitting on the back patio with my younger brother as he taught me to inhale a ...